Breathing Underwater
by Scritch
Summary: COMPLETE! Sometimes, life can be as difficult as breathing underwater. A silent cry for help in a world that surpasses our limits.
1. No Turning Back

Breathing Underwater 

Disclaimer: Due to unfortunate circumstances, I do not own the Matrix. And I do not own Switch, the Nebuchadnezzar, or any other characters in this fic familiar to the movie.

All italic verses at the beginning of the chapters are different verses/choruses from my friend Chloe Carpenter's songs on fictionpress.com If you enjoyed them, she would most appreciate your reviews on her songs! The song in this chapter is Vs. 1 from 'Help Me'

Summary: Switch's silent cry for help in a world where she is already far out of her league.

A/N: This is definitely a different writing style than my usual type, so please be nice. I have usually tried to stay away from anything present-tense, but it just kind of came out this way in certain parts. Forgive me if someone else has already done this! Four more chapters after this one.

_The air I breathe is tainted by_

_The way I choose to live._

_I cannot hide, I can't deny,_

_I'm not oblivious._

_The voices talk back in my head,_

_Nightmares engulf me as I lie in my bed._

She can't see his eyes behind those dark circular shades. It unnerves her. She can see herself in their reflection, two complete images of her; white hair stark against the dimness of the room, lit only by a single bulb dangling precariously above them.

            His brown face is expressionless, his mouth the only movement of his entire body. Speaking to her – what was he saying? She lived in an imaginary world. The Matrix. What was the Matrix? She has been searching for an answer for so long, it is hard to believe that here he is – Morpheus, the legend – telling her the truth.

            Can she accept the truth?

            To leave behind all she ever knew – not that that was much. A broken family long since gone, broken relationships, everything crumbling around her and falling through her fingers like dust, unable to be stopped. Living on a hacker's chat line every day of her life, as little human contact as needs be.

            His voice stops. He is looking at her. Her pale eyes are mirrored in his covered ones. A smile, razor-thin, curls the corners of his lips. She looks down – his arm is outstretched, something in his hand. Two small, oval-shaped tablets lie in his open palm. One red, one blue. She looks up at him, confused.

            "Your last chance to turn back, your final choice to go forward. Take the blue pill, and all this never happened. Take the red pill…I _show_ you what you have been looking for."

            Her hand reaches out hesitantly, wavering, her mind racing. Choices, decisions, which is the right one? Is there a right choice?

            That smile again, the one that could cut glass. Later she will silently name it his Cheshire smile.

            She feels the smooth skin of the red capsule in her hand for only a moment. Then she swallows.

            In another room, cramped with high-tech equipment, blue and green lights glowing from racks of monitors, her journey begins, and she can never go back.


	2. No Place to Hide

**Part 2**

Disclaimer: Verses are the bridge, pre-chorus and chorus of the song 'Reason Enough' by Chloe Carpenter.

_I'm calling for your face,_

_To come and slow down the pace_

_Of my own destruction._

_Give me instructions what to do._

She stares stupidly down at the wrench in her hand. How long has she been sitting there for? On her knees, on the cold floor of the ship. She shivers, her thin shoulders shaking with the chill. Her threadbare clothing does nothing to warm her, the gloves on her hands are torn with the work she has done in them. She looks at the wrench again; is it even the right tool? She'd simply grabbed something. What does she know about repairing heaters? The damn ship was an icebox as it was; why did they put her, the newbie, to work on something so necessary that she hadn't learned to live without yet?

            She can feel the vibrations of his footsteps through the floor beneath her before she hears them. It takes her a moment to identify him; he walks hesitantly, as if unwilling to disturb any part of his surroundings. He crouches down beside her; she can feel his nearness. _Too close, too close._ But she does not shy away. She turns her head. Dark eyes set in a round face fill her vision.

            "Can I help you with that?" His voice is just above a whisper, but even she can hear the amusement in his words. She can understand them, but does not agree with them.

            "Who says I can't fix it?" Her own voice shakes with the first two words, then strengthens. She lifts a fine white eyebrow – her hair is slow to grow back – at him.

            He smiles at her. Just a gentle curving of his lips upward. God, she loves that smile! Surprisingly enough, she offers one in return, as well as the wrench. Their fingers touch as he takes it; his skin is so warm, and she is so cold. She hopes that one day, he will share that warmth with her.

             And this is how time passes, day by day, and slowly she doesn't feel so cold. There is a link between them; an understanding that she has not felt with any other being before. She walks down the halls of the ship to her cell, shivering. He passes by her, reaches out a hand, and brushes her shoulder gently with his rough fingers.

            He is quiet – almost shy; around everyone but her. But around her, he is still quiet when she needs him only to listen. The first time she goes to his cell, he is lying outstretched on the bunk, facing the wall. She traces the broadness of his shoulders with her eyes, hesitant, standing awkwardly in the small opening of the door. Then he turns over, and he knows she is there. He can feel her. Their eyes meet, and the paler of the two pairs is glassy in the attempt to cover emotion.

            Another failure. She has failed again. She does not know what is worse; if everyone had noticed it, or the knowledge that they did not. He accepts her quietly, allows her to pour out her heart in a rare moment of weakness.

            She does not like losing her way; he helps her find it again.

            And he teaches her what she thinks is the only pleasure that can be left in life.

_You know I'm without breath,_

_There's nothing of me left._

_Core of the underneath,_

_Hidden beneath my scarlet sheath._

_Carry me into the day,_

_Give me the choice to lay here awhile._

_I have to start over,_

_I need to know,_

_Is it reason enough to go on?_


	3. No One to Trust

Part 3 

Disclaimer: Verse is by Chloe Carpenter, the chorus from her song 'Stay Away'

A/N: In response to a reviewer: you will find the poetry has been written by my wonderful friend Chloe Carpenter, and ironically enough my muse Chloe gave me the idea to use it. And to another reviewer: I am a girl

_How could you tear my life like this?_

_Why did you steal away my bliss?_

_I know you've been hurt in the past,_

_But so I have to be the one hurt last?_

An Oracle.

            The One.

            A prophecy.

            Somehow these three things are all linked together in some way that she cannot yet comprehend, sitting on edge in a cozy living room, surrounded by children that peer over their books, toys and computer to inspect this strange white intruder.

            She is not sure if she even yet believes in this 'prophecy'; she hasn't met the woman who made it. She wants to know their intentions.

            But Morpheus makes his intentions quite clear to anyone who joins his crew, and she is not excluded from that category. An end to the war. That is what they seek.

            There is a tap on her forearm. Instinctively, her hand reaches for the holster of her gun as she looks down; into the wide eyes of a little dark girl who tugs on her sleeve, a small finger pointing to the right, at a young woman beckoning. She smiles briefly at the child - how long has it been since she smiled at anyone other than Him? The smile feels strange on her face, as if it does not belong.

            But then, it does not.

            She ducks under the beaded curtain leading to the small kitchen. A dark-haired old woman sits at the table, lighter in one hand as she puts it down on the laced cloth covering the wooden surface. 

            "So then, dear…" Lifting the newly lit cigarette to her lips, the woman drags deeply on it, her eyes never moving even as her body does.

            For a moment the old woman's weathered face seems to disappear in the cloud of smoke that exhales from between her thick lips. She almost wishes that the woman will not be there when the smoke clears, but those same knowing brown eyes look at her, staring into her soul, as the cloud dissipates.

            "You're the Oracle?" she cannot keep the skepticism out of her voice, immediately regretting it but refusing to show outward denial.

            The old woman gets up, walking to the counter, not looking at her. "Hit the nail right on the head, don't you?" Beside a polished crystal platter sits a pan, a puffy white substance inside. _Angel food,_ she absently remembers.

            "Well, we might as well get this over with then, shouldn't we?" The woman says, letting a perfect white cake slide easily out of the pan onto the platter. She lifts her dark eyes, glasses on the end of her short nose. "You don't know if you trust me or not." Cigarette in mouth again, her words are slightly awkward with the cylinder blocking their exit. "Unfortunately for you, its not me you should be distrusting."

            Her white eyebrows rise, skeptical again but a faint unease creeping through her mind to the surface. She shifts her weight to her left leg. Her voice is found and she demands a more accurate answer.

            "I'm sorry I can't give you one." Reaching into an open drawer, the brown hand pulls out a knife and settles it above the angel cake. "Someone you trust will betray you."

            Trust? Who does she trust?

            There is only person that she truly trusts, who knows most anything about her.

            She leaves the apartment, a small piece of white angel cake in hand on a white-floral napkin. The car waits for her outside, a black phantom out of place in the ghetto area. Hesitantly she slips inside. He is waiting for her, a faint smile on his lips, his eyes masked by dark shades. She looks at him, at his open face, smiling for her.

            "And?"

            She looks away, out the tinted window, focusing on nothing. She sees her reflection in the glass; a white ghost, transparent, expression slowly falling.

            Falling…


	4. No Salvation

Part 4 

Disclaimer: Verse by Chloe Carpenter, from her song 'Don't Listen to the Voices'

A/N: I'd like to thank all my reviewers! I can't remember all your names, but know that your reviews are greatly appreciated! And keep them coming, they're mother's milk to me. This chapter was done quickly and without much creative juice, but I figured I just had to force something out. I really should be studying for my exams…

_I know I'm in denial_

_But if I don't believe it's real_

_Then it doesn't exist_

_If I ignore the screams and pain_

_Maybe it will go away_

It never happened 

She is running. Her breath comes in quick pants. Exhaustion creeps into her mind to spread through her aching body; she stubbornly ignores it. There is only one thought that she tries to focus on: Run away…

            _"You left me…" Bleeding, split lips part and do not move in sync with the words, but she knows that the lips speak._

            She does not like to run. Escape is not a preferred option to her, but in this world it is the only choice. In both her worlds, it is the only choice. Run, or die.

            Shots ring out behind her, echoing, their sounds suddenly magnified a hundred fold, filling her ears, pounding into her head. A blood-curdling scream. There, ahead of her, the means to her survival, a payphone. The phone rings, seeming to shudder on the cradle that supports it. Lifting it to her ear, she looks behind her, out from behind the glass.

            _"Life is so fragile, and you hit it with a hammer." Bloodshot eyes penetrate into hers. _

            A writhing body, stained crimson. She knows that face, the face twisted in torment and agony, then anger and defiance as its destructor steps up to it. The girls spits in defiance, hitting his gun. She can hear him say,

            "Only human."

            Her vision is blurring, burning the image before her into her mind forever, a red-tinted memory. An inexplicable sensation as the world turns white, then the darkness of the Core. A dark face invades her own, lips moving, speaking words she cannot comprehend at the moment. _"Are you alright?" _Of course she was all right, when had she ever said she wasn't? When had she ever failed?

            Besides now.

            How can she act so cold? He is watching her from a distance, standing in the shadows, trying to remain unnoticed. Their eyes meet, and she is first to turn away, unable to admit her guilt.

            The guilt that consumes her. The guilt that speaks to her, repeating her failures, speaking through those she has failed.

            There is blood on her shirt. Trinity says that she was injured; but she knows the truth. There is blood on her, blood on her hands, on her conscience, that can never be wiped away.

            _"Mortality…"_


	5. No More

Part 5 

Disclaimer: Verses by Chloe Carpenter, from her song 'Fool's Parade'.

A/N: This is the final installment of 'Breathing Underwater'. Sorry its taken me so long. Evil school, and I do believe that the mother of all of Writer's Blocks has been residing in my house since December. Enjoy, and review!

_A mirror shatters, the pieces break my heart._

_My soul is scarred from dodging darts._

_A shadow traces my mind, erasing what's entwined,_

Keep my thoughts away from me. 

Ringing sounds from the room just beyond her clouded vision. She blinks the dust from her lashes and grins, a brittle smile that seems as if it will shatter at any moment. False expression, but her words as she draws her gun are true.

            "God, I love that sound."

            But the line is dead.

            Something is wrong. Trinity's voice is urgent on her cell phone, confused. The operator doesn't answer – she questions Cypher. Then fatal, final words, filled with horror. "You killed them."

            _What?_

Betrayal.

            She looks beside her, at Him. His face is twisted into a frown, sunglasses in hand, not wanting to believe what they both know. Shocked gazes glance at each other, then quickly back at Trinity. She remembers to a time in a warm kitchen, the smell of cigarettes, and someone telling her…

Not Apoc.

            Cypher.

            Oh god, Apoc!

            "Trinity…" He speaks her name. Trinity's. Not hers. _Say my name! Just once more. _Everything blurs before her, and only the shock that seems to go through his body brings her to action. The _thud_ as he hits the ground.

            _No!_

Her fingers dig into his back, her nails piercing through the material of his jacket. Cause pain, and it will bring him back. Pain brings life with it, awakens her to the world around her even as in its brief release she finds shelter. But he doesn't wake.

            Cypher, you bastard.

            Her eyes glisten as reality hits her. How much time had passed since the Oracle – damn the old woman! – had misled her? How long had she rejected him, out of fear of being hurt, believing that only she could cause herself pain.

And how many times had she been proven wrong?

Her fault. Her decision. Her misinterpretation. Her choice.

_No one can see beyond the choice they don't understand…_

            And she's next.

            "Not like this," she pleads. "Not like this…" Oh, please, oh, god, forgive her! She knows not who she begs forgiveness from; Trinity, for not warming up to the only other woman on the ship; Neo, for not being able to show him all the many things he still needed to learn; the Oracle, for not understanding; Morpheus, for failing him. There were so many others.

            Apoc. _I'm so sorry…_

            Her world goes black, then eternal white as her body is severed from her mind.

            _The body cannot live without the mind._

She understands the meaning of death.

_Under my mask,_

_Fears like broken glass,_

_Threatening to tear me apart_

_My world's a masquerade,_

_Every day a different fool's parade_

_By this fool's parade,_

_I've been betrayed_

A/N: Well, its finally over…*sniff* I know this took me more than a little while, but I'll miss not fretting over having to do a chapter without inspiration. It was a challenge. Forgive the strange formatting and lack of italics on the end of the first verse, the document manager doesn't like me. Now, press the pretty blue-purple button!


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